Dogs always know; their inherent senses can detect danger, fear, and hurt. I have been in a tragic funk since learning of my ex's having a blood clot behind his left eye. Despite his Latin-inspired craziness and the constant fighting over KiKi (I had the money, he had KiKi) we remain friends. How can you not with someone you lived with for six years; that would be tantamount to saying you were wrong all that time.

Anyway, whenever I stop over the dogs are extremely excited because my visit equals a good meal. But, yesterday--to my surprise--the ex had been released from the hospital tests early and was sleeping. But, all I needed to know was in the eyes of the three dogs. Huddled around him, they were scared and I remembered how, when I fractured my entire left side years ago, KiKi would lie against my left leg, knowing that it was the place of pain. In their eyes I saw something I've never seen before: the knowledge that something was very wrong; way too wrong. They didn't even jump at the chicken Alfredo I brought; that's way too wrong.